So Yu served him, but that did not mean he offered him any courtesy beyond the bare minimum. He could not have been polite about it, even if he had wanted to. It was not like Yu could have passed him the spoon from wing to claw, physically speaking. No, he tossed both spoons into a mug and dropped the thing on the table just so. Then he retreated, quick enough to be gone before the clatter ceased and borman could so much as reach. Rushing to shake off the noise and the glances of the common room, Yu hurried through the first kitchen door. But once in the narrow corridor, his pace faltered.
The door to the sick bay stood just a feather’s width ajar.
.
.
.
.
Yu approached. Slowly. Carefully. He tried not to scrape the stone with his talons, or let his feathers rustle. When he reached the door, he stilled his breath. Then he leaned forward and peered through the slit.
Pages:
Pages:
Pages: